


Ad Exsilium

by CracklPop



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CracklPop/pseuds/CracklPop
Summary: Nearly two decades after the war, Teddy Lupin seeks out Draco Malfoy, hoping to get his help in curing Andromeda of a vicious curse. But Draco has exiled himself from the wizarding world, choosing instead to live as a Muggle. When Teddy draws Draco back into the culture of magic, both are surprised by the feelings that develop between them.





	Ad Exsilium

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from these characters.

There was absolutely nothing magical about the restaurant Teddy Lupin found himself in front of one foggy autumn evening—three weeks after the curse had sickened Andromeda, two weeks after Harry had hunted down the spell caster and discovered the impossible cure, one week after Hermione had said she’d exhausted her resources without finding an alternative. And two days after Luna Lovegood had turned up at Teddy’s flat, an old hat in one hand and a way of tracking down the only other family member Teddy and Andromeda might have left. 

Teddy’s finding spell, faint and wavering and hesitant, hadn’t filled him with the brightest hope, but he dutifully had followed it about for nearly a full day. It seemed uncertain, and when it had guided Teddy away from wizard-heavy areas and toward London, his faith in its usefulness had not been strong. Still, a fair number of witches and wizards had settled in the great metropolis over the nearly two decades postwar, Teddy had reminded himself. 

He’d persisted in his belief—however tenuous—that the tracking spell would lead him to the only person who might be able to save his Gran. Until, that is, the spell abandoned him squarely in a Muggle neighbourhood, on a Muggle street, by a Muggle restaurant serving…pierogi. Whatever that was. 

Teddy ran a hand through his over-long hair—currently a dejected sort of brownish shade—and figured he might as well get some supper out of the ill-fated venture. He pushed open a door with the words _Polska Uczta_ written on it in faded, hand-lettered, gold paint and took a moment once inside to look over the worn carpet, the warm wood furniture, the slightly uneven plaster walls. It felt very friendly, and it smelled of caraway, butter, and smoked sausage. Teddy took a place in the short queue for seating, trying to work up an appetite, telling himself he didn’t have time to collapse from hunger, that helping his grandmother meant minding his own health.

He didn’t have to wait long, thankfully, before a young, earnest-looking woman seated him at one of the small tables near the back of the dining room. She handed him a menu and he stared at it for a long time, the list of dishes blurring despite rapid blinking, until Teddy realised he had tears in his eyes. The spell hadn’t worked. Andromeda was going to die. His Gran was going to die. And he wasn’t able to do fuck all about it.

When his waiter arrived, Teddy blindly pointed at one of the menu items, gave a garbled thank-you for the glass of water, then hurried down the dimly lit hall toward the loo. As he was passing a set of opaque glass doors, one of them opened suddenly, and Teddy collided with a slight man in a stained, white chef’s apron. 

“Sorry,” Teddy muttered automatically, reaching out to steady the person he’d run into. His hands closed around narrow shoulders for just a second before the other man jerked free of his grasp with an annoyed sound. 

“Pardon me,” the man said stiffly, tipping his head up to meet Teddy’s apologetic expression with a scowl. Teddy could only blink dumbly, astonished at the face staring back at him. Draco Malfoy’s face.

The grey eyes and white-blond hair were entirely from the Malfoy side, but the pretty, pointed features were startlingly similar to the portrait of Narcissa that Andromeda kept by her bed. Teddy had thought the spell defective when it led him to _Polska Uczta_, but there was no question that this was his mysteriously absent cousin. Although, in Teddy’s memories Draco was much taller; the top of his head barely reached Teddy’s chin now. 

“Are you quite through staring?” Draco asked, his pale brows rising with irritation. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve a busy house tonight.”

“Right, sorry. Again,” said Teddy quickly, unable to stop his eyes from roaming over Draco’s face. His mind was filled with half-recalled images of that same face wreathed in smiles at Teddy’s birthday, screwed up in concentration at a spell to make Teddy’s stuffed elephant trumpet its horn, wet with tears after Narcissa…. Well, things Teddy hadn’t even realised he remembered. 

He opened his mouth to lay out the situation for Draco right then and there, to beg him if necessary for his help. But Draco brushed past him, continuing down the hall before disappearing into a back room. Teddy began to follow him, but he hadn’t got more than a couple of steps forward when the kitchen doors swung open again and a harried-looking Muggle woman in a white jacket rushed out to hurry after Draco. 

Teddy, knowing he couldn’t have a frank talk about wizards, blood curses, and long-lost family members in front of a Muggle, pushed through the entrance to the toilets and stared at himself in the mirror for several long minutes, hands clenched around the cold porcelain of the sink. 

The shock of seeing Draco again, of finding him _working in a Muggle restaurant_, of all things, had knocked Teddy’s features into their default formation. But even as Teddy watched in the mirror, the shapes shifted subtly, until his cheekbones were higher and his nose smaller and his colouring pure Malfoy ice. It was a mimicking game he’d played endlessly when he was small—Harry had once remarked that he could always tell who had been by to visit from the colour of Teddy’s hair for hours afterward.

Teddy briskly shook his head and when he looked at his reflection again, he saw the usual cross between Tonks and Lupin with relief. His food must nearly be ready, Teddy thought. And—and he had to talk to Draco, to somehow convince him to help Andromeda. 

“Steady,” he told himself, producing a stern look for Teddy-in-the-glass. 

The first thing to do was eat and pay for the food he’d ordered. He _needed_ Draco’s help, and it probably wouldn’t further Teddy’s cause if he ran out on a dinner order at Draco’s place of employ. Teddy straightened his clothing—he’d never exactly got the knack of mixing and matching Muggle togs, but no one had given him a second glance on the street, so he supposed he’d done well enough this time—and marched back out to his table. 

He consumed the savory dumplings he’d apparently ordered, enjoying them despite his impatience and inner turmoil, especially when he swiped them through the creamy sauce and tart fruit jam provided. Teddy paid up and hovered near the exit for a few seconds before deciding to wait around the back for whenever Draco got off shift. It didn’t matter if it took all bloody night. 

As it turned out, Teddy had to wait less than fifteen minutes before _Polska Uczta’s_ alley-side door swung open and Draco emerged. Teddy pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against and fell into step with his cousin, causing Draco to start violently and emit a stifled gasp. 

“I haven’t any money, if that’s what you’re after,” Draco snapped, quickening his pace. Teddy’s long legs effortlessly matched the increase in speed. 

“Draco, it’s Teddy. Teddy Lupin. Don’t you remember me?”

Draco stopped dead on the pavement, something lost and haunted and heartsick crossing his face before it closed up into cool self-possession once more. 

“Teddy Lupin,” he repeated slowly, dispassionate gaze running over Teddy. “Yes, I—I do see some of your…father about you.” 

“It’s—” Teddy broke off, making a frustrated gesture, unsure of how to most effectively convey his request. “Look, can we go somewhere to talk?”

Draco didn’t say anything for several long moments, frowning. 

“I broke off all contact with the wizarding world fifteen years ago. I’m—please, just leave me alone.” He began to walk away again, turning the collar of his coat up against the foggy chill. 

“No, hang on,” Teddy called, hurrying after him. “You don’t understand. It’s-it’s my Gran. It’s Andromeda.” 

There was a noticeable hitch in Draco’s stride, but he didn’t stop. 

“Nothing to do with me,” Draco said, drawing his coat closer around his chest. “I gave it all up long ago. Whatever it is you need, I can’t help you.” 

“You’re the _only_ one who can help!” Teddy rushed to close the distance between them, reaching out and spinning Draco around by his shoulder without thinking. 

Draco shocked him by evading his grasp and knocking Teddy’s hand away with enough force that Teddy lost feeling in his fingers for a couple of seconds.

“I’m _nothing_ anymore,” Draco hissed, a spot of colour high on each pale cheek. “I’m not your-your cousin, or your friend, or your babysitter. I’m not a part of your world. I’m _done_.” 

“She’s dying,” Teddy said baldly. “She’s nearly gone, and she needs the blood of a family member to make the cure.” 

“I—” Draco paused, body stiff. “Why don’t _you_ contribute the necessary component, then?” 

“I can’t.” Teddy scrubbed his face with his hands and gave a shaky, humourless laugh. “Turns out my blood’s not quite right. But you’re pureblood on both sides, and the Blacks and the Malfoys intermarried for generations. There’s no one else left, Draco. You and Andromeda are the last of the family. If not your blood, then she dies.” His voice broke on the last word, but Teddy refused to look away from Draco. 

The other man fidgeted with the strap of his bag, thin fingers restless as he twisted the leather around and around. 

“I-I don’t….” Draco glanced up at Teddy again, and something shifted in the cold, grey depths of his eyes. He lifted a hand, and astonishment held Teddy frozen as Draco brushed the tips of his hair with a butterfly-light touch. “It’s coloured just like mine right now,” Draco whispered. “I remember….”

Teddy tried not to breathe as Draco tilted his head to the side, thinking. 

“I don’t want Andromeda to die because of me,” Draco said finally. “But once I give the blood, I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“Yes, whatever you want,” Teddy assured him, relief and shock and elation building up inside him until he felt as though fireworks would explode from his chest. 

“Best done soon, I assume?” Draco prodded, raising those blond brows with a touch of the old superciliousness. 

“What? Oh, yes, yes, of course, immediately, if you can go now?” 

Draco nodded once, face closed off and remote again, although the fists clenched at his sides belied the expression. 

“Do you mind—I can side-along…er, apparition, if you recall?” Teddy suggested. Draco gave him a glance that was equal parts annoyance and amusement. 

“I did actually complete the majority of my education, thank you,” he said, dry as could be. “I am familiar with all aspects of apparition, unless there have been new developments to the spellcraft?” 

“No, sorry,” Teddy offered with a sheepish smile. He gave Draco his arm and felt a peculiar satisfaction when the older man took it without question. Teddy tucked Draco into his side and in the next blink they were standing in Andromeda’s cozy parlour, a fire burning cheerily in the grate. 

“It worked!” said an excited, girlish voice. Teddy saw Luna clap her hands with undisguised joy at their appearance. “I knew there was a reason I kept that hat all these years. And not just because it made an excellent Nargle repellent in my closet.” 

“You really found him,” Hermione said, standing from her chair by the bookcase. Ron, who had been leaning over her shoulder to peer at her book, straightened with a doubtful expression.

“So he’s agreed, has he? And where’s he been all these years, I’d like to know.” 

Teddy knew the belligerence in Ron’s tone was more due to worry over Andromeda than anything else, but Draco sent a cautious look at the towering redhead. 

“Draco Malfoy,” the room’s final occupant said, and Teddy felt the jolt that went through Draco’s body when he heard the voice. 

“Harry Potter,” Draco returned, voice crisp and unaffected. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, sincerity ringing in the words. He came forward with his hand out and for a moment Teddy thought Draco would ignore it. Then, reluctantly, Draco put out his own hand and allowed Harry to grasp it. 

“I’ll give the blood and then I’m free to go,” Draco said firmly. He hesitated, then asked, “Who’s mixing the potion?” 

“I am,” Hermione informed him, and Draco’s face cleared. 

“All right,” he said. “Take me to your workspace.” 

Teddy heard Harry clear his throat quietly and realised Draco was still held close under his arm. He stepped back as Hermione led Draco out to the kitchen, where the rest of the potion ingredients were assembled. 

“…weakness for a few days, but nothing life-threatening,” Teddy heard Hermione explain. He made his way to the kitchen entry and stood there, watching as Hermione had Draco shed his coat and jumper, then sit down and roll up the sleeve of his shirt to bare a wiry forearm. 

“_Sanguinem concalo_,” Hermione intoned, performing a complicated series of short movements with her wand. As Teddy stared, unable to tear his gaze away, a gleaming ribbon of red rose from the pulse point on Draco’s wrist, twirling to meet the tip of Hermione’s wand. She gently funneled it into the small cauldron on Andromeda’s worn kitchen table. 

Draco had begun to sag a bit by the time Hermione halted the flow of blood, and his eyes were slightly glassy when she Healed the opening on his wrist. 

Teddy procured a glass of juice and urged Draco to drink it all. It worried him that Draco didn’t protest, just swallowed until the glass was empty, then sat silently as Hermione counted full and quarter turn stirs, muttering to herself and consulting a large book periodically. 

“Draco, do you—” Teddy began, but Draco startled at the sound and lurched upright. 

“I’m fine—that’s fine, then. You have what you need?” 

Hermione nodded distractedly. 

“Yes, yes, thank you,” she said, still focussed on the potion. 

“I’d like to…if it’s all right, I think I’d like to see my aunt before I go,” Draco told Teddy, looking as though he was braced for refusal. 

“She’s likely asleep,” Teddy started, “but—”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll see myself out,” Draco cut him off. 

“You don’t have to rush away,” Teddy protested, hard at his heels. 

“There’s nothing for me here,” Draco said, and Teddy didn’t have to listen hard to hear the bleakness and finality in that statement. 

“What if—what if the potion doesn’t work?” Teddy said. 

“It’s Hermione Granger herself mixing that cure,” Draco replied. “I can’t imagine there’s a wizard or witch alive who could do a better job.”

They had made it to the front door by then and Teddy sighed. 

“At least let me side-along you back to London,” he pleaded. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

“I’d prefer not to be involved in any more magical acts today, thank you,” Draco said. “I’ll find my own way back.” 

Teddy was trying to think of a way to save Draco the long return trip when Ron suddenly spoke up, clearly alarmed. 

“Oi, mate, you don’t look so good—” 

“I’m not your mate,” said Draco coldly. “And I’m _fine_—” 

Then, without another sound, Draco crumpled to the floor, Teddy barely managing to break his fall. 

“Told you he looked like shite,” Ron muttered as he, Harry, Teddy, and Luna stared at the unconscious form by the door.


End file.
